


Crazy

by orphan_account



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Edward, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Dark, M/M, Omega!Oswald, Omegaverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 07:40:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11916273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Edward is an alpha trying to control his hormones. Oswald is an unpresented omega. Things seem to be going fine between them. Until Gotham city becomes infected.With a disease spreading about, causing the citizens of the city to go crazy and create violent chaos, Oswald and Ed are determined to flee before the city's madness gets to them. But yet the struggle of unknowingly already being infected disrupts their relationship just when it starts to bloom.





	1. Chapter 1

There is always something about first times. There's a first time for everything they say, and everyone knows the first time isn't easy. Beginner sex for example, is always painful. You've got to make sure your entirely ready, and even when your not, it's still awkward and confusing. But we aren't just talking about sex. No no. We are talking about murder. Cold, hard, brutal murder.

In a way it is like sex.

The fascination of doing something, just to know what it feels like. The need to know of what how it feels, having your hands wrapped around a gaspy throat and to listen to the shrills as you suffocate your victim. How they sound, the screams they make. It's intoxicating in a way bedroom dominance can never defy. Why? Because you know you are powerful, and only you have the control.

For Edward Nygma, even as a presented alpha, the idea of sex, is revolting. However murder compared to sex is always different. Real sex is emotional contact. Murder is psychical contact. With sex, its something you give, where as murder you take. And once you've had a taste, of both or either, you can never ever go back.

Murder is almost like sex, in its own completely unique way. though it's not that the idea of sex is out of the question. There is just something stopping him.

"It shouldn't be different." Edward thinks to himself, watching the penguin pace over and over as they continue in their first ever murder together upon the shores of Gotham city river bank. Well to be technical they haven't started yet. Oswald must await out his brilliant plan first, figuring out what to do with the two bodies stuffed and cradled in the back of ed's car.

Scientifically it's the same thrill, but it sex shouldn't be a far stretch. And for some reason, even as penguin hobbles out of the car and begins to pace back and forth behind the truck with nervous anticipation, for some dumb old reason, it makes him wonder. What would sex with Oswald be like? He's never hesitated to think about it, as the poor young virgin Eddie is still unexpirenced, may it be killing, shagging, or sexuality in its own form. It's shouldn't be different, but because he lacks this special knowledge, he wants to know.

He knows he knows everything. He thinks he knows everything, but not this. He just won't admit it.

When he rolls down the window of his car to peek his head out at his handsome suited fellow from behind, Oswald is glaring. When he's angry, his cheeks puff in the most adorable way, with a pouting lip and narrowed arching eyes that always seem to look with fury at those whom are much more taller, and when his nose scrunches up, it's always difficult not to smirk.

He still thinks about it, as if it were some sort of cancerous infection spreading throughout his mind. It's unstoppable. There's always that image, and no matter what happens the curiosity won't go away. He just can't deny himself. Oswald is too cute.

"Ed!" A dramatic face exclaims with a loud sneer. "Well. Why are you waiting?!"

Correction. Not cute, just decently attractive. he adds silently, tapping the side of his glasses with a flat smile. He peers back to Oswald again before deciding to hop out and help.

Being a beta, he shouldn't think things so unnecessary. Again, another correction: he's not a true born beta. The great Edward himself is just an alpha who is simply on medication. Truth being that, he prefers the term beta. Having inappropriate thoughts about his partner in crime...ugh, as ever..! He'd almost considered himself as an asexual alpha, but as far as he cares, he's whatever he wants to be. As for Oswald, he can't smell anything else, but unless he was hiding his scent, he would have known. If that's he case, he hopes that the chances are, he's an omega.

When Oswald makes another face, he smiles and tilts his head down to face him, stepping towards him from behind the parked car. He can't help grin. Tiny furious penguin looks so cute!

"Quit staring." The fashionable bird replies with a pout. His hair is a bit too messy, and his clothes could use a rinse from the blood spatters. Aside from all that he's gorgeous, tie disheveled and sleeves from his half unbuttoned shirt loosened at the cuff of wrists. Of course when he repeats himself, it's more of a statement then a pout and he turns his face away with a pointed nose and an angry hiding blush. "Quit it. Drool all you want, but you can stare later."

This time it's Ed's turn to redden. "Er..Oz-" he stops himself before that tedious nickname of his escapes his lips. "Oswald." He begins. "Have you ever.."

Oswald turns his head fastly, brows raising too quick and a unamused smirk appearing. "I was being funny. Joking, really."

"No, Oswald I.." Edward bites his lips. "This. This is completely serious conversation." His eyes narrow through his glasses and the trunk lifts open, revealing the two bodies stuffed from inside. An omega and his alpha, tied, blinded and gagged quiet to spot their muffled screams

Oswald leans an elbow against the car, then huffs. "Alright. I'll listen."

Edward takes a minute to pause his eyes over him. Oswald's smirk disappears to a light frown. For the moment, he almost thinks and hesitates, then pushes him a step back as his face leans forward, just to prove his point. Facts are, if he was an alpha he would have attacked. If he was an omega, he'd respond submissively.

Surprisingly, he stands still, showing neither reaction. Oswald's head tilts upward, and for the quick second as he steps away to leave him to his personal space, he almost thinks if not for the softness in his glare, that he's angry.

Oswald raises an eyebrow and Ed, shaking his head, says nothing more. Instead, he pulls out a knife and hands it over, letting Oswald do his work. The bodies are sliced brutally, Oswald's repeated stabs continuing as his hand digs deeper to attack the pair of bonded lovers. Edward breathes, watching him in all his violent and murderous penguin glory.

Oswald is a mess. He nearly tosses himself over the trunk to reach, and when he's done, he can't help but offer the knifed hand over to his riddle loving friend with a smile. Edward exchanges the look and takes it in his, their fingers nearly brushing before the knife is placed firmly in his palm. His heart is skipping, and he fears of dropping the blade through his shakily nerve struck hands.

The body is later then dumped by Oswald, while Edward returns quietly back to his car. He knows he could just drive away, but he can't. He knows he has the power within to just say his mind, but he chooses to ignore it. The very depth of his alpha instincts are going insane, and for some reason he just needs to know what Oswald looks like naked.  
It's decided. Oswald must be an omega. It's the only possibility. However, Oswald would never openly admit to talk about sexual matters. Therefore, he is left with no other choice but to convince him.

But how? Ed ponders this for a while, thinking of his game strategy, too busy focused to notice that Oswald has crept into the passengers seat and slid his hand up his leg. When he does, he freezes, and tosses a shocked glance to him. Oswald's look is nothing but of a concerned friend, and once again, the feeling must remain mutual. It's nothing of importance, just a light touch.  
Oswald doesn't seem to be fazed. "Are you alright pal?"

He knows he's not, but he nods anyways. The thought that Oswald knows what he's thinking is frightening and the idea that he could be thinking the same sends thrills through his veins.

He must be his.


	2. Chapter 2

The two return to their apartment shortly after and it is for sure decided. Oswald must be an omega and all in all he MUST be his.  
His bedroom door swings closed after Edward shuts it and he begins to think through his plan. From the opposite of the door, he can hear Oswald shuffling from the living room to the bathroom.

Edward strips off his clothes and throws the mess of blooded suit in a pile before toeing over the hall way to join him. He knows he's got a great sized dick for an alpha, so the confidence is there. He's pretty good looking after all. However as the door creeks open, there stands his thin figure underneath the shower water and Edward's tounge goes numb. He's delicious.

Oswald, jumps back with surprise and drops the soap in his hands, his mouth gaping as wide as his eyes. "Ed!" He's speechless. "Y-You-your..."  
"I'm?" Edward's tilts his head to the side, trying to figure this out. Then his eyes fall down his chest. "Oh!" He hurriedly looks back up with a startle and pushes his glasses to the bridge off his noise. "That..That is.." His hands wave a pointed finger in the air, and he begins to explain. As best as he can. "We. Well. We should shower together. I think so. Do you think so?"

Oswald crosses his arms and leans against the wall, rubbing his neck uncomfortably. From the distance, he shrugs his shoulders and looks to the left with blush. "What ever you want."

Edward innerly makes a groaning noise and rushes over, yanking away the shower curtain, startling Oswald in response with his body jerking back to the wall and standing perfectly still even as he takes a step into the bathtub. His eyes can't help but lower through his glasses and his mouth parts slightly. Oswald's view halters downward, shoulders stiffening as their gaze meets once again and with a breath he nervously covers himself in his hands.

Awkwardly, he gives a chuckle and Ed smiles in response, his hands reaching to grasp his own neck and fold his arms together as he looks down at the edge of the tub as a excuse for distraction. He shrugs and scratches behind his ear. Oswald's eyes quickly lower and raise, then turn away to face the shower wall, slowly moving his hands off his cock and...  
Oh.  
Well. Hello there.  
It takes all his effort to try not to gasp, but eventually the silence breaks and his mouth pops open with a click.  
"Your...?"  
Oswald shivers and straightens his spine. Bless him, poor nervous bird.  
"No no! I haven't..." He stutters the word, eyes closed almost as if it nearly pains him to speak. "Presented." He waves a hand in the air then scratches his neck. "I see you have?"

Edward quickly closes his jaw. He's referring to his alphainean sized dick. Lovely. His eyes squint together as he lets out a sigh and corrects him. "I prefer the term beta. I'm not interested in sex." As soon as he says this, a strange feeling settles in his gut. He's never been interested in any sexual activities until having his first few shameful thoughts of Oswald. So. Was that a lie?

Trust lights up in Oswald's eyes as he says this, and the two give each other a set of loose smiles.

Once again, There is something about first times. Like the first time seeing Oswald naked. Ever since that day, the thought of Oswald's fingers scrubbing trails of soap against his back still hasn't left his mind. It's only a matter of weeks before he knows he wants more than just sex with Oswald.  
However there is that bond of friendship, that he can't not afford to break.

He refuses to let himself think of Oswald. This idea, this shameful idea of having Oswald as his lover, it carries on for many days. He has planted it inside his head, repeatedly forcing himself to say over and over how wrong it is to love a man. Even more so, your best friend. The idea carries on, for a while at least, until he decides there are better push to fry. But most certainly not as bad as Oswald, he allows himself to admit, while walking down the crowded halls of the GCPD corridors.

Her name is Kristen Kringle. And like him, she is an alpha. After a few morning coffee dates and a couple of flirtatious exchanging looks from across the file cabinets, it's already decided they are going to have sex. Nothing serious, he tells himself, as the vision of Oswald spread over a blanket pops back into his head. It's only to blow off steam.

Tonight's the night they will be licking each other's skin and bones like prized meat. Ugh. He shivers. He had been so eager to finally lose his v-card and now the only object in his way is the unstoppable force to shed Mr. Penguin from his suit and fluffen up his pretty feathers.

Just carry on with life, he tells himself. Forget penguin. Find a mate, have kids. Have a traditional wedding and settle down for married life with a beautiful young omega woman.

Nervously, he traces up the steps to the commissioners office. Inside, Mr. Gordon seems to be standing in center of the room with a posture of aching to know feeling, and an expression of rather bitterness. Gordon isn't pleased, though his face shows he is putting up with it. Like instant ramen, that is if you could compare the mind of Edward Nygma to three minute microwaveable noodles, his thoughts react to the scene.

Curious, he taps a finger to the glass as he reaches for the doorknob with this now free hand, the files he had been previously holding stuck under his arm. The door creaks open just enough for him to stick his head through and poke his neck around like a weasel. His glasses add more to the weasel look, but luckily his strong jawline makes up for his handsome features. Pop goes the weasel, he grins to himself.

"Hope I'm not interrupting." He claims, pushing the tip of his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he slides through the door. Though of course he is, as always around the GCPD. But for Edward there is never a bad time to share the wonderful good news of the day. "I found-"

The lights go out before he can finish his report, stopping mid sentence as he finds himself staring around through the dark of the room. All eyes are taken away and slowly turned to the ceiling, a hush silencing over them.


	3. Chapter 3

All of Gotham is dark. When Ed returns to the shared flat, the lights are out. This reasons him to believe there must be a power outage. Oswald, as usual, isn't at home. Somehow he thinks the man must be avoiding him. He wouldn't blame him. Ever since that day...no. He convinces himself this, do not think any more of penguin. Do not pass go. Penguin has a house of his own. Surely he just wants some alone time.

Alone time. That thought has Edward shivering.  
Bringing his hand to his mouth he sniffles a cough, suddenly realizing how cold it is and heads off to take a warm shower and good nap.

By the time he nestles in bed, blankets covered to his shoulder and face snuggled against a pillow he's smothering hot and struggling under the sheets just to pry off his shirt. Gasping, instead he gives up and lies there. Once again the thought of penguin crawls into his mind and he like that he closes his eyes, belly flopped downward as he clutches an arm around a nearby pillow for comfort. Visions of Mr. Cobblepot curled tight to his side assure him to sleep.

It's all peaceful. Until he awakes with a springing repeation of coughs and a sprouting hot erection. Quickly, he sits up to take care of his little riddle. Though before he is able to take care, the voice of Oswald starts to call from outside the hallway. Right then he begins to curse in panic. Not good. Anything but good! If Oswald were to see this..

"Ed!" A voice screams, causing him to jump and grab for a pillow as in a small figure busts though the door. Literally, Edward is paralyzed. The Oswald like figure is rather ghostly painted and claiming a rather red pair of lips along with shadowy eye features. Is he..wearing makeup? Though it doesn't look like Oswald, it takes Ed an minute to figure this out.

"Oswald?" Ed gasps, quite frankly in shock due to the penguin's new appearance that he isn't quite used to seeing. The man wobbles, black fuzzy hair bobbling as he makes his way to crawl over on top the mattress. For Ed, it's a fantasy. Almost a fantasy. Having penguin sway his hips as he shimmies up his legs across his hands and knees, suit tucked tight to his skin and buttons aching to be undone.

It's so sexual. All until Mr. Cobblepot speaks.  
"I need help Ed." He speaks, ever so shaken and nervous, the words trembling past his bright lips. But he's quick to grit his teeth, baring a smile as Edward leans back against the head of the bed. He's leaning in too fast for comfort and once Edward realizes this, seeing the sense of danger wilding in Oswald's eyes, he knows this isn't Oswald and his blood level drops cold.

"Make me laugh Ed."

His voice is demanding, in this creepy estranged way. One minute he's staring. But then his hand gives a slip, and Edward finds himself struggling from Oswald's strong fingers. Oswald soon heaves off with a startled noise, shouting as he pries himself off the bed and takes a step back.

Edward gapes and blinks, staring direct at the unraveled Oswald staring at his hands with wide mouthed shock. Heaving, he takes a moment to slow down and collect his breath. "I..." Oswald struggles for words.  
A hand is raised from the view of Edward as he pulls back the sheets and rises up. "Say nothing." He awkwardly eyes the floor, then points to the exit behind Oswald.

After a long shower, his next hours are spent confronting penguin in the time out corner. When he enters the living room, Penguin isn't sitting at a couch or chair he's resting on the coffee table, cross legged and humming, surrounded by many paper origami penguins. One of them sits above his head, nested in his hair while he remains still, eyes closed in what looks like a mediating mode.

Edward coughs, then clears his throat. The makeup has been partly washed off his face, he notices.

"We need to talk. What is this?" He questions, suddenly really concerned. He takes a seat at the couch, fronting in face of his friend. The pale man hums and leans, his stick like figure arching down. The paper bird drops from his head and at that he finally looks up, eyes weak.

"Me." He probes a finger, pointing to the one of the birds and jabbing in the beak.  
Edward scoffs, and yet somehow even after having been walked in on in his horny state and almost being strangled to death, he still manages a tiny smile. "You are an ass, my feathered friend."

Oswald giggles, the curves of his mouth creeping up into those cute dents in his face. Edward smile looses and the two exchange a laugh as he pats him on the shoulder.  
Coughing, his hand soon returns to his mouth, finding his throat rather dry and itchy. Oswald, his eyes lighting up in panic, scoots closer. "Ed, are...I hope I didn't harm..."

"No!" Insistingly, Edward shakes his head and rests against the sofa. "It's fine."

Oswald. Oswald. Oswald. Just his name is possessing, haunting his mind like a disturbed memory. He needs to get over it. He's rustling from under the sheets of his bed, just trying to fall asleep, but of course when the thought has finally cleared his head, Oswald struggles into his bed and brushes across his knee.

His toes curl playfully, but it doesn't take long for Edward to realize that this is not a dream. Quickly he shoots up, for some reason he wanting to run. But Oswald laughs and the plans change, as the two pile on top each other, both buried under a heavy blanket with Oswald pining Ed by the shoulders.

"This isn't like you." Edward grovels. His vison is blurry through the dark but Oswald's eyes shine perfectly bright, gleaming into his with thrill.  
"I know." Oswald gives a smug look of satisfaction, shrugging his eyebrows with a dramatic roll."Maybe you should cuddle me." He shrugs.  
Edward grins, the gears in his head starting to turn. "Wouldn't you rather kill me?" he says without even thinking. Then he snaps and Oswald is forcefully shoved off with in a matter of seconds. Now, he regrets it because Oswald is desperately clinging to him like his life depends on it.

Giving up, he throws a set of arms around his waist, turning over to pull him close and snuggle him to sleep.

When the two awake, the moment is broken as if nothing strange happened before. There is a silence between them as they give each other an exchange of wide eyed stares and shove the other away. What happened?

"Oswald?"  
"No, no, Ed. I think you are mistaken. "  
"Last night."  
"What ever you are trying to imply...  
"Right, this isn't...Wait. No!" Ed sits up, untangling from the bedsheets.

From outside, a scream breaks the tension.

Oswald shakes his head and scoots closer to Edward from the bed. Then Oswald speaks, pulling against the blanket that wraps around both their shoulders. "There's something wrong with me." He shifts, stretching his leg out. "I was doing well this week..but yesterday that was..."

"We both did things. Said things." Edward admits, before shaking his head in a final chuckle. "That wasn't you."  
"No!" Oswald jumps, turning to grab his shirt. Eyes make contact, Edward darts a hand to his, cupping his wrists. "Your exactly right! That wasn't me!" Oswald declares hopelessly with softened brows. Edward stiffens. "Whats happening? What am I Ed?"

Another scream is made from outside and Edward's brows furrow. Waving Oswald away, he gets up to his feet and pads to the door.

"Change."


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes there are times when it isn't right to say something. Like making inappropriate conversations during a funeral. For Edward his sense of humor doesn't seem to lighten the mood. So when Oswald goes and wraps around him out of fear, arm clinging to his shoulder as they walk through the halls of the dark screech filled apartment, it doesn't help when he says, "That's so Raven."

He doesn't know why he says it. But the feeling brings a smile to his lips and lightens the mood only a smudge. Even if it's only for him. Thought it's not like Edward to just break out in jokes like this during a time when there are screams from two floors down And a black out city signaling the world may be at end.

"Your so Raven." Oswald snorts, pushing him away with a shove.  
Edward rolls his eyes and plants his hands on his hips. "No." He scoffs dramatically, then giggles, mouth cheeking up into a sly giggly grin. "I'm so Edward!

Another noise interrupts and the two jump, hands reaching to hold the other, clinging for life. Now all the sense has been knocked back to them, their minds become utterly confused and thoughts begin to panic once more. Oswald looks up, bringing his eyes to Edward with absolute lost hope. He seems frightened, and it's adorably charming. Even a big scary sound can bring down the incredible Mr. penguin.

Staying brave, Edward wraps an arms around his shoulder, pulling him through the dark halls, their bodies walking side by side. Oswald shifts a head against his shoulder, the noise getting louder and even more disturbed. When they make it to the elevator a loud rushing sound hurries behind them, something headed their way.

A person is running after them, but Edward spares no time and shoves Oswald in through the metal doors as fast as he can. The door clings closed and the sound of banging fists ceases as the elevator decends. Whomever is outside is no longer a concern. Oswald rests his head on Edwards chest, burying his face in his coat as he takes a breath and clutches for his shoulder.

"Ed..." he mouths and Edwards hand extends to touch his waist. Momentarily, his eyes blink and his fingers grip, nails digging into his skin. Then something in him snaps and he pries him off. Oswald frowns, clearly wanting to be comforted and the door slides open, revealing a disheveled mess of a hallway. Oswald turns. The two are greeted by a hall of broken doors glass piled floors and bloody walls.

It isn't right. It isn't normal. Something is definitely wrong. Either that or this is just one really strange day. Another noise and the two quickly cling to each other like one of the overly exaggerated characters from Scooby doo. They decide it'd be best to reside locked up in Edward's flat for the rest of the night.

Back inside Edward's flat thirty minutes later, Oswald is lighting candles. He lights some and lets them sit on the floor of the living room, where a gathering of pillows and blankets spreads all around the area for comfort. Some candles are lit up on the coffee table and others are displayed on the window ceil. Edward makes a noise, coughing at the disgusting scent of burning wax and fire, then cuddles a pillow on the ground. Oswald lazily flops to the couch.

Edward tosses his head around on the pillow then makes a puff. Sitting up, he slides over to the couch and rest his chin and elbows to the cushiony surface, Oswald rolls his head over and looks to him. "Are you scared?" Edward blinks, slipping off his glasses and setting them to the table with a turn. Oswald shakes his head and Edward turns around, resuming his resting position. His face is so close, Edward thinks as he quietly breathes.

"No." Oswald repeats. "No I'm not scared."  He shrugs. "I just don't know what's going on."

Edward looks away for a moment, then brings his eyes back to Oswald. "And what is going on with you?"

"I.." Oswald, fluttering his eyes, lowers his lids and leans just a little bit closer. "Could I just.." he mutters, curious. A light hand flutters against his cheek. Heart madly beating, Edward closes his eyes. Oswald's breath is just wavering around his lips, perfectly and almost as if he was meant to be there. That this was meant to happen, the two of them together. But his lips pull away in a haste, stoping them from their kiss.. Eyes flickering open, the two both freeze, unsure what to do or how they want to continue this.  
Oswald's face is burning red, he notices. It's the best thing in the world, the unsure look of this marvelous bird gazing through his eyes.

Oswald.

Edward's body jerks in a attempt to inch closer, but a surprise of melting wax meets his skin and a candle setting on the table knocks over, causing himself to shout in pain, and Oswald to snap to his feet. A blanket nearby catches fire, spreading across to the stack of newspapers and flaming up to the window curtians. How did this place become so flammable? And since when did he have so many newspapers spread around anyways?  
But there is not enough time to think. Edward, jerking Oswald's hand in his, tugs and pulls him away from the quick starting fire. Oswald, caught surprised in the spur of the moment, looks around before chasing Ed's lead. Quick and ready.

Oswald, knocking a knee against the table, near about trips over, knocking the Edward and himself down. The petite fragile bird is panicking but there is no time! Edward, being the hero, grabs the pit of his shirt and drags him up to his feet, catching him just in time.

The building starts to burn in a fairly easy amount of time. Thank lord the two make it to the outside just before the worst of it spreads

But there is still something out there in the hall way. Gotham is still dark. More importantly than the fire is his and Oswald's safety. Edward is fearful. Afraid. Whatever may lie beyond those halls may be forgotten by morning. But Edward can not forget the fear, and the strange sence of not knowing that something is completely and absurdly wrong.

Maybe even with his mind.


End file.
